


This Could be a New Adventure

by The Lady of Ren (The3rdMusketeer)



Category: None - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, just for fun, trying something out
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-24
Updated: 2018-07-24
Packaged: 2019-06-15 18:02:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15418548
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The3rdMusketeer/pseuds/The%20Lady%20of%20Ren
Summary: You've traveled to a new country and after an adjustment period, resolved to have some fun with the native men.





	This Could be a New Adventure

                It didn’t take long for your phone to essentially start blowing up. Your profile had been up for all of two hours before the messages started flooding in. Men who attempted to be witty, stand out, say something to get your attention. Some said a simple “hi” and some didn’t even speak English. Any and all messages you got peaked your interest in the man. You were newly single in a new country with no expectations of dating. What harm could fooling around do, anyways? If feelings developed, then that’d be a problem for future you, but for now, you just craved the attention.

                You replied to guys at your leisure, going on a date here and there with anyone who seemed to know enough English to carry a conversation. Though very quickly, your attention was on one guy in particular. He didn’t seem overly creepy, asking about your day, offering to help you study his native language. You were both very busy and promised to meet up for a “date” that you were almost certain would be a quick dinner and then back to a motel. Until then, he’d send you selfies occasionally to pass the time and keep you interested. He had a very square jaw with dark eyes, bangs that covered his forehead and a resting “don’t give a fuck” attitude about him. He was way out of your league, if you were being honest with yourself and you worried that when you met up, he’d be disappointed and end the date after dinner.

                As fate would have it, he wasn’t busy on a random Thursday night and neither were you. The idea was thrown at you at about 2pm and only an hour later, a plan was set for 8pm. You hadn’t been on a date in years, let alone excited to meet up with someone as handsome as this Adonis. You’d never been the kind of hook up type, with every boyfriend taking a few months before you were really intimate with them. This was something exciting. A new adventure for a new you and a new country. Let the wind’s of fate take you wherever it pleased while you enjoyed the ride.

                At 7pm you started to get ready, looking into the mirror for what seemed like an eon, deciding what make up to put on. You definitely weren’t much into dolling yourself up, but the girls from this country wore it. In fact, you hadn’t seen a woman your age without make up on the entire time you had been in the country, and they definitely had a different style than you. You decide to go with what you know; applying the makeup you had practiced before and trusted to not look like you’d gotten ready in the dark.  Glancing at the clock on your phone, you realize his bus would arrive in 10 minutes. You have to forego any of the fancier details of the make up look to walk the 10 minutes it took to get to the tiny inter-city bus station by your house. With quick purpose, you put on the clothes you’d already set out, taking a moment to look over your make up, and walk out the door. Only to realize that you were so engrossed in your make up that it had started to sprinkle outside. Fuck. Can’t show up to your first date with your make up running down your face.

                You walk down the road with your umbrella lowered over your face. You’re embarrassed by how much time you actually took on your make up and outfit. It’s not that you didn’t care what you looked like before this, but this was the first time you had tried to impress a boy with your looks. It was uncomfortable to be judged in that way, and yet, here you were, meeting up with someone you’d been talking to for all of one week, planning to meet up, get drunk, and do whatever the alcohol bided you to.

                Rounding the corner, you briefly catch a glimpse of some black skinny jeans and boots before the stop before you, unmoving. You trace the legs up, leading to the man you were supposed to be meeting. The pictures didn’t do him justice. Nothing could have done him justice unless you met him in person. He was tall, a foot or so taller than you. A wide smile instantly greeted you accompanied with two dimples. He had broad shoulders and seemed like much bigger of a person than you had imagined him to be. This wasn’t just a handsome guy who had agreed to go on a date with little ol’ you, this was God’s gift to a straight woman’s eyes. While you were looking him over, he introduced himself by the name he went on his profile, Mark. Sounds were stuck in your throat, but you managed a greeting as to not seem rude. He took the umbrella from your hand, leading you to the restaurants in the area. He wasn’t fazed by your behavior, instead asking you all kinds of questions about what kind of food you liked. Eventually, though, you both settled on a more traditional place where you cooked your own food. “We could eat at McDonald’s and I’d be just as happy to stare at him”, you thought while you both ordered a round of alcohol.

                 You’re about two bottles of straight alcohol, half a beer, and a lot of good food in when you two decide to leave. His English is amazing and he’s the most handsome man you’ve talked to since moving here, but you don’t connect. He’s got a fun party vibe about him that just doesn’t resonate with you. Though his party side is fun. The confidence he gives off draws you in and you find yourself listening to his words intently, watching all his physical movements as if you’d miss a great happening if you looked away. Or maybe that was the alcohol talking. You’d had this country’s native alcoholic drink before, but it was always with friends around and never this much. Now you were quite tipsy sitting across from a date who was now suggesting getting a room at one of the many motels in the area.

                You two walked out of the restaurant slumped over each other. He could hold his own with the alcohol better than you could, but looking around, there were many college aged girls doing the same slumping and stumbling as you were with your date. This was the perfect kind of place to go out with friends or a date on the weekend to unwind from a busy week at college. Consequently, there were many hotels around you could rent a room from for a few hours to finish off your night in the best kind of way.

                Mark and you would also be indulging in the convenience of the hotels this night. You both stumble around, looking at hotels running up and down the streets, wanting to find a somewhat cheap but clean one. You’ve never been to any “love motels” as they call it here, so you are following Mark’s lead mostly. You choose a bright red building with very discreet, tinted glass entrance doors. The red theme continued on the inside, lining the hallway with bright red tiles but being dimly lit by the lights above. The front room was modestly decorated only with a few end tables made from dark wood. Next to the entry way was a small window. The window led to a room that was seemingly lived in by someone. An older woman ran the window, greeting you two as you walked in. She didn’t seem concerned by your drunkenness or that you were a foreigner. Mark and she speak in their native language, while you pick up Mark asking for the room for all night and paying the bill.

                Mark thanks her, grabs the key she hands him, and you both walk off down the darkened hallway. Stopping in front of a door, Mark keys it open and you both step inside. You politely take off your shoes in the entry way as is normal in this country. He does the same and heads into the adjoining room where the bed is. As he takes off his parka, you take in your very first love motel room. The bed is at least a queen size, sitting on a short frame against the wall. The far end way is mostly a sliding glass door that you assume looks out over the college district you live in. There’s a rather nice flat screen in front of the bed. The room itself feels worn, but clean enough. Just beside the entryway is a full bathroom, complete with a tub and showerhead.

                You had picked up some “liquid courage” from the store before heading into the motel, which Mark was now getting himself into. Taking off your outer layers now that you were free from the bitter November winds, you settled onto the bed and turned on the tv. Mark soon joined with the alcohol and you both drank in relative silence. You didn’t know what to do next. You’d never did any of this before. You had a realization of the situation you were in. A man you had just met had gotten drunk with you and now you were both in a hotel room, sitting on a bed together, continuing to drink alcohol.

                The thoughts didn’t continue much longer as Mark had decided he would make a move towards you. He pulled you onto his chest with an arm around you, being gentle and not awkward about it at all. He asked about the movie you wanted to see and put on an English movie for you. Watching for a moment, he moved his free hand down to your chin and lifted your face up to his. There wasn’t romance in the kiss, but it was gentle. He kept his fingers at your chin, kissing you without making any more of a move. When he pulled away, he checked your expression, asking if you’re okay out loud. Your mind was blank, save for the one small section that craved more. You hadn’t been kissed like that in so long, you had forgotten what the feeling was like. You nod in response to his question and he moves to continue.

                His lips now are more daring than before. His full lips are now parting to comfortably poke at your lips. You allow his tongue inside, saving the taste of the blueberry flavored alcohol. His arms start to wander at the same time as his tongue. Hands grab at your outer sweater and lift it. The kiss is broken momentarily to allow the garment over your head, the returning kiss hungrier now. You will yourself to put your hand onto his rib cage, feeling how firm it is under his shirt. This drives you to be even more selfish with the kiss. Another firm hand grabs yours, lifting his own shirt up over his head. You pull away once more to take in the sight. You realize now how broad his shoulders are, adding to the heaviness you could only imagine under his heavy parka jacket.

                Mark doesn’t allow you to stare for long as he pulls you into him again, this time his hands going down to your belt. It’s unbuckled quickly and slid down along with your pants in a swift motion. You’re left in an undershirt and undergarments now, the alcohol fueling your desire to touch him more than worry about your clothes. Your hands are perfectly content running up and down Mark’s abdomen, stopping on his biceps now and again. He must have noticed, because he asks if it’s okay to be rough. You’re drunk, but still aware what that could entail in someone’s mind. “Depends on what you wanna do.”, you say. Without answering, he swings an arm over to yours and grips your upper arm. His hands are bigger than you imagined and he squeezes with them. It doesn’t hurt in the least and actually adds a bit to the experience. You nod to him and he keeps his squeezing hand in place, kissing you again.

                You’re starting to feel more comfortable with him. He’s been gentle the whole time, never stepping out of bounds and kindly asking you about any action that might upset you. Confidently, you slide a hand down to the outside of his jeans. They feel tight from the bulge inside. You become too curious for your own good and start to undo his belt followed by his zipper. Mark makes no move to stop you, instead moving from your lips to your shoulders and neck. In the moment, you didn’t care whatever imprint he left behind on your body, you wanted everything he was giving you.

                The rest of both of your clothes quickly followed suit with his pants. Suddenly you had become very aware of how very naked both of you were. Mark didn’t seem to mind in the least, taking in the curves of your body in a restrained manor. It was very obvious that nothing more was needed from either side. Though there was barely any foreplay, you were begging for him in your thoughts. You shift to lay down horizontally on the bed as Mark climbs over you. He asks you once again if you’re okay. Without hesitation, you nod. You don’t speak from fear of saying what you really think. “If you’re as good at sex as you are at kissing, I’ll fuck you the entire night,” is the only coherent thought you can have.

                He lowers himself onto you and positions himself between your legs. You get a moment to think how heavy he is before you feel him slowly guide himself inside of you. You’re more than ready physically; you’ve been wet since he started kissing you. It still hurts, though. You haven’t had sex in awhile and he’s bigger than you anticipated. Your walls stretch to allow him inside and you wince in pain. It’s not very fun now but you’ll get used to his size in a moment. You tell him to go slowly and he complies, moving carefully more and more inside. You can feel his hips touch the inside of your thighs.

                With care, he moves his hips away from you and back again to you. The pain is easing into pleasure and you’re starting to enjoy the whole of him. Mark watches your face slowly relax as you move with rhythm of his hips. He takes this as a sign to pick up the pace. He puts more focus into enjoying it himself, reaching up to grab a hold of your breasts as they move. A quiet moan leaves your lips while you watch this gorgeous man pleasure himself with your body. In return, he moans a curse word, commenting more to himself how tight it is. You take pleasure in that and start to move your hips against his to give him more.

                He leans down to place his face beside yours, moving his hips more slowly, and taking in all that you have to offer. His hands are on your shoulders, pushing you down onto him more. You feel him so deeply that you have to moan in a raw way. Did he know how you were making him feel? Or was he just enjoying himself and using you for it? You wrap your legs around his lower back to give him more room to move. Your arms follow suit, grabbing onto his wide shoulders and sinking your nails in. This only seems to stir him up more and he pushes deeper. It’s a chain reaction of pain giving pleasure as you both press harder into each other. Your nails are sliding down his back, surely leaving scratches that’d show for days afterwards. He throbs inside of you. You feel it, pressing your nails hard into his shoulder.

                Both of his square hands go to your upper arms and pushes them against the bed. This ignites something in you and you beg him in his language to do it harder, push more. His fingers wrap around your arm and begin to squeeze, but it’s not enough. More, you keep saying. His hips are keeping pace with your pleas while he pushes his fingers harder into your flesh. It hurts and you bite your lip, but the pleasure is so much more than pain. A quick thought crosses your mind in your drunken and pleasured mind, “I wonder if this will leave a mark,” you think. “I hope so,” is the reply. The thought only makes your moaning louder, your arms try to resist his restraint so that you may pull his body closer to yours.

                You’re now both being so loud you’re sure the surrounding rooms can hear you, but you don’t care. Mark lets out another curse followed by telling you he’s going to cum. You barely hear his words but implore him to cum inside of you. You don’t want him to pull out, that’d be a waste. He doesn’t question you and continues his fast pace thrusting. His grip tightens around your arms and you wince again as he finishes inside of you, letting out a long moan and a few small movements of his hips. Your heart is pounding and you’re panting when he climbs off of you and falls to the space beside you. You let out a shutter of pure satisfaction as well as some curse words yourself. Mark is breathing heavily, but gets up shortly after to go to the mini fridge for some water. You’re able to sit up and take in the claw marks weaving across his back. His huge frame, height, and toned thighs. In that moment, you were ready to go again.

               

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first time posting anything, so if all goes well, I'll delve into actual fandoms.


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